


Mourning a Failure

by Mothervvoid



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amaurot (Final Fantasy XIV), Amaurotines (Final Fantasy XIV), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sad and Sweet, Short & Sweet, sad moon man content, sir this is my emotional hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothervvoid/pseuds/Mothervvoid
Summary: In which Elidibus goes to the Akadaemia Anyder.
Relationships: Elidibus & Lahabrea (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Mourning a Failure

**Author's Note:**

> If Hytholodaeus can be self aware then by god there's a memory of Lahabrea that's self aware too, dammit.
> 
> I wrote this to hurt myself :)

You’re not sure what you’re hoping to find when you walk through the doors of the Akadaemia. A way to reminisce perhaps, some small sliver of a memory that you might hold onto for want of a better time; before it inevitably slips away from you, as all your memories-- and all things-- do.

You pass silently through the halls; past hulking concepts, past the towering bodies of nameless colleagues-long-passed. Past Mitron’s sprawling aquariums and Halmarut’s lush gardens. Past all the false life, this faded memory of your home. It was noise, all of it. White noise.

Until you walked into the Words of Lahabrea.

There, in the center of the lab, was the aforementioned Lahabrea; going about his work as if nothing had ever happened. Every-so-often, a tiny, fiery creature would burst into existence at his fingertips, where it would glimmer, briefly, before fading back into nonexistence. Lahabrea would click his tongue, write something down, and do it again.

 _Mockery._ Mockery, this was a mockery of your brother-

“Elidibus! Forgive me, I was not made aware that you were coming,” The spectre of Lahabrea spoke, looking right at you.

“I-” But the words get caught in your throat. You stand there in disbelief, mouth opening and closing like one of Mitron’s concepts. 

“I know you are probably here for work- but would you like to see one of the concepts that I have been working on?” 

You feel so small. For thousands of years, you’ve loathed the size and constraints that the mortal form posed, but in this moment, you feel as if you are the same size as your vessel. You feel as you did when you were first inducted into the Convocation, when everyone seemed so big, so unmoving, like monoliths in the distance. Untouchable. 

They had been your heroes. 

A hand rests on your shoulder.

“Is a problem in the Capital frustrating you?”

You hadn’t even realized you were crying.

“Wh- no,” You shake your head, quickly reaching under the mask to wipe your eyes. Childishly, you fumble for an excuse; “Halmarut- they have a new concept and-”

“Elidibus,” A hand gently tilts your chin up, to face the vision of Lahabrea, “It is alright. I am a memory. There is no shame in weeping at the sight of a memory.”

Something inside of you breaks.

You topple forward, towards the vision of your fallen brother. It sweeps you up in its massive arms, enveloping you like a blanket.

Towards the end, Lahabrea had frustrated you to no end. Always scheming, plotting something for his own personal agenda, going off and committing the most idiotic, most basic of mistakes. Just when it seemed like there would be no end to his madness, he vanished. Gone. Dead. 

You did not mourn. You did not have time, you did not have the energy. You did not have the strength, or care to mourn for Lahabrea. There would be no funerals for failures.

You bury your face in the spectre’s robes and weep.


End file.
